


every second with you (i want another)

by Felixseo (kafkao)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, Rated T for language, Strangers to Lovers, artist!chan, jisung has some issues but dont we all, light angst??, self-indulgent shameless astronomy references, writer!jisung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29399952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kafkao/pseuds/Felixseo
Summary: Jisung thinks he might be some kind of magnet for outrageously attractive people. Not because he's also attractive, no, but probably because he's become somewhat of a prodigy at hopelessly crushing on all of them.Bang Chan is just another (outrageously) attractive person- just another person who has somehow made it into Jisung's magnetic field, yet is still miles out of reach.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Han Jisung | Han
Comments: 21
Kudos: 88
Collections: SKZ Jukebox Fest Round One





	every second with you (i want another)

**Author's Note:**

> For skzjukebox fest! This is based off Lauv's There's No Way (ft Julia Michaels)
> 
> Thank you to the mods for organising this, to the friend who came up with the whole concept of this fic, the other friend who listened to me get frustrated over this whole thing and finally my beta who makes my writing legible for the public. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy and happy valentine's day to everyone!

Jisung doesn’t believe in a god- not really. He’s always thought that the world is way too fucked up for some higher power to be watching over humanity,  _ protecting  _ them, keeping things in order. He’s pretty sure that if there were a god there would also be no murderers, no thieves, no heterosexuals…

But that was all in the past. Because when Han Jisung wakes up on a Monday morning and checks the time to find that he’s slept through the first twenty-five minutes of his morning class, he almost has a breakdown. He contemplates skipping it completely, until he remembers that there isn’t a single person in his creative writing class who he has the guts to ask the notes for- sans Minho and Jongho, but Minho never pays attention and Jongho is more likely to decapitate Jisung than give him his notes just because he slept through a class- and so he stumbles out of bed, tripping over his comforter as he does so. Jisung’s phone clatters to the floor, opening up multiple notifications, and he groans as he bends down to pick it up- and then he pauses.

Because yeah, prior to that day, Jisung may not have believed in a god. He may have been under the (flawed) impression that the world is just spinning on its own silly little axis, doing whatever the hell it wants, depositing criminals  _ and  _ heterosexuals on the same planet, as if one wasn’t enough. But there’s  _ definitely  _ some kind of deity watching over him, a deity who has caused the universe to work in Jisung’s favour for  _ once _ , because sitting on his phone is a notification that that class that Jisung just stumbled out of bed for- yeah that was now cancelled due to the ridiculous amounts of snowfall that had blanketed the city overnight.

Jisung jumps a few feet into the air in celebration, eyes landing on the weather outside. It’s equal parts ridiculous, but also breath-taking. At times like this, Jisung wishes he was a photography major instead of an aspiring author, because sometimes there are simply no words to capture the beauty of nature. 

The class was definitely worth cancelling, Jisung thinks as he drags his feet through their messy apartment, picking up a stray mug off the coffee table as he goes. He fiddles with the dial to turn the heating up, ignoring the fact that the heating system in the apartment is absolutely shit and never does what they want it to. 

As the coffee maker comes to life, Jisung scrolls through his calendar, eyes scanning over the various due dates he has. If he adds up everything that’s- fifteen pieces of work that are due soon.  _ Way  _ too soon.

Jisung contemplates working on his assignments for a total of two minutes before he hears a ruckus down the hall. 

_ “Didn’t I tell you?” _

_ “You did but-” _

_ “No buts! I told you!” _

Jisung groans as he turns back around to pour his coffee into a mug. There’s no way he’ll even get enough peace in this place to  _ think,  _ let alone get some quality work done.

Minho and Hyunjin emerge just as Jisung finishes his coffee, both of them looking a few seconds away from starting one of their usual rowdy fights.

Jisung is pretty sure they don’t hate each other as much as they pretend to- but it sure does make living with them difficult. Jisung loves Minho and he loves Hyunjin, but what he’d love  _ most  _ is if they started to get along. 

“Morning,” Hyunjin chirps, moving over to the stove. He pulls out a frying pan and Jisung eyes him warily. 

“Did your classes get cancelled too?” Minho asks, completely ignoring Hyunjin’s  _ how the fuck do you turn this thing on? _

“Yeah,” Jisung says, switching the stove on for Hyunjin before moving away. He doesn’t really want anything to do with Hyunjin’s (often) failed attempts at cooking.

“I think they all got cancelled.” Hyunjin says, and his frying pan gives a dangerous hiss noise as he does so, as if scolding him for being ignorant. 

“Study rooms should be open right?” Jisung asks.

“Should be. Why bother though? You can study here.” 

Jisung throws Minho a withering look at his  _ absurd  _ suggestion and Minho promptly clamps his mouth shut. 

“Right.” He mutters, and he at least has the decency to look slightly ashamed. 

It’s difficult to find a spare study space. Most other students seemed to have had the same idea as Jisung- well, most  _ smart _ students. Jisung is sure that if  _ everyone  _ on their campus was smart then he wouldn’t have walked past groups of people having literal snowball fights on campus grounds- a whole ten days before finals. 

So when Jisung finally finds a study room with only a single person in it, he decides to take it. 

He walks in slowly, not wanting to disturb the other boy. He can’t really see much of his face as he’s standing in front of an easel with a huge canvas balanced on its ledge, but when Jisung settles into a chair on the far side of the room, the boy pokes his head out from behind whatever he’s working on and offers Jisung a small, polite smile.

It takes Jisung a few seconds to return the smile. The boy is  _ very  _ pretty, with sandy-brown hair and pretty pink lips. When he smiles, a dimple makes an appearance in each of his cheeks, and Jisung thinks about diving out of the window and into the fresh snow.

_ Breathe _ , he tells himself. He lives with Minho and Hyunjin. He knows how to survive in the presence of pretty boys.

It doesn’t take long for inspiration to hit. Painter boy had some soft music playing, which Jisung thought would be distracting, but eventually he manages to tune it out completely. Snow has started to fall again outside, and there’s shouts from the students still playing in it, but it all fades into background noise as Jisung works on his story. He’s taken the traditional approach of putting pen to paper, as he finds that this method stops his writer’s block from hitting too quick.

The unfortunate thing about Jisung’s  _ traditional  _ methods is that his fingers start to cramp after a mere twenty minutes. Jisung sighs, placing his pencil down next to his notepad and stretching his arms above his head. His knuckles crack as he does so, and Jisung winces, not realizing just how bound up he’d been in his writing and that he’d been hunched over in one position for so long, unmoving. 

Jisung’s eyes scan over what he’s written so far- a decent page - and he smiles, satisfied. There’s no way he would have gotten that much done in the presence of Minho and Hyunjin. As Jisung rocks back on his chair, trying to come up with a better way to phrase the last sentence he wrote, painter boy pointedly clears his throat from the corner.

Jisung looks up, surprised to find that the boy is looking right at him, and has also barely moved an inch since Jisung first sat down.

“So… what’re you working on?” the boy asks, and Jisung has to steady himself on his chair so he doesn’t go crashing into the wall behind him. He barely manages to stop himself from doing something stupid like looking around the room to make sure the boy is talking to  _ him,  _ before he responds.

“Uh,” he hesitates, unsure of how much detail to go into. The art student would no doubt find his personification of amalgamated emotions a bore, but he  _ did  _ ask. “it’s like… a novella about too many emotions, but also no emotion at all?”

To Jisung’s surprise, the artist  _ groans,  _ as if Jisung just said something  _ wrong. _

“Come on, man.” the artist sighs, “give me some more to work with here.”

Jisung frowns, unsure of what he means, but before he can respond, he’s being questioned again.

“So like, negative emotions?”

“A mix.” Jisung answers, almost automatically. He’s been thinking about this plot idea for weeks now, and sure the idea makes very little sense in his own head and he’s still very much trying to piece everything together, but there are a few things he’s sure of.

“And the protagonist?” 

“Misunderstood.” Jisung responds “Like, too many positive and negative emotions, but no one really  _ gets  _ him, you know?”

The artist nods along like he does,

“Antagonist?” 

“Everyone.” Jisung says, “Or perhaps not. He’s very up in his own head.” As Jisung continues to elaborate on the plot, he knows he’s getting slightly tangled up, a little lost, a little too into it for a stranger’s ears, but he’s also finding it slightly difficult to stop running his mouth about it. “Sorry.” He says when he realizes he’s gone on for the better part of ten minutes now, “I’ll uh- let you get back to your thing.”

“No, no, don’t apologize.” The artist throws him a grin that can only be described as cheeky, “Thanks for the inspiration.” 

Jisung  _ balks.  _

Did he just get his  _ own  _ idea stolen from him? Though, in retrospect, it wasn’t  _ stolen.  _ He’d argue it was gently pulled from his grasp in a way that he didn’t realize it was taken from him until it’s too late. Except the idea still sits pretty in his notebook; it’s still  _ his.  _ Whatever the artist chooses to do with it- that’s up to him. But Jisung still invented the brainstorm, the  _ original,  _ and he finds that he may not be too bothered over the concept of someone being inspired by one of his own ideas. It’s almost… flattering.

Jisung wants to ask his own questions, wants to ask the artist if he was serious about the inspiration thing, but the artist seems to finally be absorbed in his work, sketching out long lines on his canvas and barely looking away from it, so Jisung decides to continue writing, ignoring whatever just happened in the last half an hour. 

Jisung isn’t sure what it is, but it somehow becomes easier to write his piece after that. He wants to thank the artist, perhaps ask if he wants to discuss his silly little idea a bit more, but Jisung ends up so engrossed in his own writing he doesn’t notice the artist packing up his utensils, doesn’t notice him folding up his easel and tucking his canvas under his arm, doesn’t notice anything until he hears the soft click of the door and looks up to find that the sun is setting and the artist has disappeared. 

Jisung sighs, rocking back in his chair. He didn’t even get the artist’s  _ name.  _ Has no idea where to find him, and he doesn’t want to look like a creep following after him now but-

All thoughts are broken away as Jisung tips his chair back a little too far and goes crashing into the wall behind him. 

  
  


Jisung likes to think that the melting snow would also melt away any thoughts he had of the artist, but unfortunately, the deity he had started to believe in has either lost interest in taking care of him or simply doesn’t care anymore. Working on his assignment in the comfort of his apartment becomes increasingly difficult as Hyunjin and Minho continue to bicker over the silliest things. Jisung had heard Minho threaten Hyunjin with an airfryer the other night. Jisung doesn’t have the faintest clue where that threat came from. He’s pretty sure they don’t even own an airfryer.

Regardless, the bickering outside his bedroom door doesn’t stop, and so Jisung has no choice one day but to throw on his thickest hoodie, as well as a few necessities into his messenger bag and take the short walk to the cafe across campus. 

The melting snow had been caused by a welcomed rise in temperature, so Jisung basks in the winter sun as he walks, admiring the trees that are yet to shake off their snow capes, the icicles that steadily drip from pipes, and the small puddles formed by what has already melted. 

The cafe is warm and cosy, with the hot air blowing from somewhere in the back and the comforting smell of coffee wafting around the small shop. Jisung orders a double chocolate mocha and takes it to a table in a far corner, clicking open his laptop and settles down to work.

Inspiration doesn’t come easily. Jisung had assumed that being in a quieter environment would spark some kind of motivation, as well as garner him with a work ethic, but it all seems useless as forty minutes later he hasn’t written anything more than twenty words. Jisung sighs as he leans his arms on the table and rests his chin on top of them, eyes flickering over the minimal progress he’s made. 

Remembering the advice of his creative writing tutor- inspiration strikes from surroundings (or some shit, Jisung doesn’t pay much attention to what his tutor has to say)- Jisung lifts his gaze to scan over the café.

It’s pretty empty, mostly due to the weather. There’s a teenager sitting at a table near the front with an array of books spread in front of her, though her sole focus is on the phone in her hand. A few baristas are milling about behind the counter, and right at the end of the counter on one of the stools sits a boy, also in a barista uniform, his Airpods in, and sketching in a notepad. Jisung tilts his head, intrigued, until suddenly he comes to his senses- that sandy brown hair and those art tools looking all too familiar.

Before he can talk himself out of it, Jisung jumps out of his seat, abandoning his work, and rushes over to where the boy is still crouched over his sketchbook.

“Hey!” Jisung calls out, way too loud for the tranquillity of the calm café. 

The boy looks up, startled, and once Jisung is close enough he manages to catch a glimpse of the name tag, pinned onto his uniform. Chan.

“Chan.” He says, like saying his name will clear the boy’s confusion. It doesn’t. “Chan, hey, I’m Jisung, listen,” Jisung starts, “remember we worked together in that study room like, a week ago?” It hasn’t been a week. Not yet. It’s been six days. Jisung  _ isn’t  _ counting. 

Something like understanding flashes across Chan’s face and he nods, dropping his pencil onto the paper, as he sits up excitedly, though he still doesn’t remove his airpods.

“Yeah! Hey! Good times, bro.”

Jisung halts.  _ Bro?  _ Of course. Bro. 

“Can I see that art piece? The one that you drew that day?”

Chan frowns for a moment, before a different expression takes over, and he’s looking slightly apologetic.

“Oh,” he says, “That was a part of my finals. I already turned it in.”

Jisung’s jaw drops. Chan  _ turned it in?  _ Chan  _ painted  _ something based off  _ Jisung’s idea  _ and didn’t even have the audacity to  _ show it to him? _

Finally, Chan takes out a single airpod.

“You good, bro?” He asks.

_ Good?  _ Is Jisung  _ good bro?  _ No he’s absolutely fucking  _ livid bro,  _ over the fact that he’s been struggling with the writing for this idea, and this kid,  _ Chan,  _ had the audacity to finish a  _ whole piece  _ based off it, and already  _ turn it in?  _ And then had the audacity to ask Jisung if he’s  _ good? Bro? _

Jisung sighs.

“I- you know what? Yeah, I’m great, fine, thanks. Have a good day.”

And with that, Jisung turns on his heel and walks back to his table, back to his twenty words of progress and stone-cold double chocolate mocha. 

The interaction doesn’t make things any easier for Jisung. In fact, it only makes everything harder. Jisung can still see Chan from the corner of his eyes, both of his airpods back in, still sketching, still oblivious to the pain he is causing Han Jisung, and Jisung can’t concentrate at all. Another forty-five minutes pass, Jisung manages to squeeze out about fifteen words before he sighs and stands from his seat, eyeing the untouched mocha still sitting on his table, then decides to take the short trip to the counter.

Chan smirks when Jisung mutters out an order for a black coffee, watching his movements as Jisung tries to take a sip once the drink is made.

He can’t help it- Jisung’s face screws up in disgust and Chan straight up laughs at that, only waving when Jisung throws him a glare. 

Jisung decides, at that moment, that he’s had enough, and so he abandons the gross coffee next to his ice-cold mocha, packs up his equipment, and goes home. 

Jisung isn’t quite sure what he’s expecting when he winds up at the same café a few days later. He tries to kid himself that his roommates are loud and he has work to focus on, but Hyunjin hadn’t even been home when Jisung had left, which meant Minho was acting pretty pleasant. 

There’s only one barista behind the counter when Jisung walks in; a tall boy with pink hair and a wide smile. The timing had ended up being the same as he’d come the other day, so Jisung is a little disappointed to find Chan nowhere in sight. 

Jisung contemplates buying a drink, and possibly asking the barista for Chan’s work schedule, but eventually decides against both options. 

Concluding that it could be Chan’s day off, Jisung turns to leave, though his eyes catch something before he can make it back to the door.

There're various art pieces strung up on the wall, all with a similar style, despite them being of different objects. Some are simple, fruits, cake, a coffee cup; others are more intricate, nature and sunsets and cute animals. The art is truly beautiful and Jisung wonders how he hadn’t noticed them the first time, as he begins to feel a little bit of the bad mood that had crept up from Chan’s absence, as well as his lack of motivation, beginning to fade.

Jisung is suddenly pulled out of his awe when someone taps him on the shoulder.

Jisung recognises the boy immediately. He’s taller than Jisung, a lot taller, with fading blue hair and crinkles in the corners of his eyes when he smiles. Jisung remembers the way his cheeks had coloured pink two weeks ago, when Jisung had admitted to having a crush on him. Soobin had smiled bashfully, eyes downcast as he mumbled something about having to think about it, and if Jisung could give him time. Jisung had happily agreed, though now, with Soobin looking about four different types of uncomfortable, Jisung briefly thinks about booking it out of the café.

“Hey Jisung.” Soobin starts slowly, and Jisung nods in greeting, words caught in his throat. “I- look, I don’t want to make our friendship awkward, so I should probably just tell you that, I- I like someone else? And you’re cool, Sung, really, I think you- you’re great! But I just, I don’t think we would… click, and this other guy- he- we click really good. So, yeah. I’m sorry Jisung.”

Jisung smiles tightly, briefly wonders why he feels like crying. This isn’t the first time he’s been rejected. It definitely won’t be the last either. 

“It’s fine, Soobin, really.” He takes a shaky breath, “I hope it works out between you and- whoever.”

Jisung barely hears the thank you that Soobin responds with, as he weaves between the tables and chairs to get to the exit, unable to remember the reason why he had hung around the café for so long in the first place. 

Despite his unfortunate previous visit, Jisung still finds himself relentlessly drawn towards the café. 

Inspiration to continue with his short story is as dry as ever, and Jisung finds himself frequenting the café in hopes of finding the one person who had managed to remove the huge writer’s block last time it had obstructed his path. It’s a silly thing; Jisung has written and completed countless pieces of writing before Chan, but there’s just  _ something  _ about Chan’s presence that had eased his mind before. He isn’t even sure what he’d say to Chan if he saw him. ‘Draw whilst I write so I can complete my assignment?’ ‘Ask me questions about my detrimental plot because I won’t be getting my degree without it?’ It’s silly, really, it’s all very absurd, but Jisung has a knack of being hung up on things and being unable to back down until he sets his mind on them.

The reality check comes on the fourth day, when Jisung enters the café after his last class and scans behind the counter, only to find that boy with pink hair working once more, and no Bang Chan.

Yeonjun, Jisung had learnt his name by now, smiles at him when Jisung walks in and Jisung doesn’t even have the energy to smile back. He contemplates ordering a mocha just to watch it go cold again, when Yeonjun beckons him over.

“Hey.” Yeonjun greets pleasantly, and Jisung manages a smile this time. Yeonjun is kind and he never questions Jisung’s slightly strange habit of turning up at the café every day only to hang around for a while and leave. 

“Hey.” Jisung responds, eyes scanning over the menu, as if he even understands it. What the hell is the difference between a regular latte and a  _ skinny  _ latte? 

“Are you… possibly looking for someone?” Yeonjun asks as Jisung continues to stare at the illuminated bulletin board behind him. “It often looks like you’re waiting for someone so I just wondered if there was, you know, someone specific?”

Jisung sighs. 

“Yeah, actually.” He decides to drag his gaze away from the menu, because the longer he’d been staring at it, the more it had confused him. “Do you, by any chance, know Chan? He works here.”

The smile slips from Yeonjun’s face, though it reappears almost as fast, like Yeonjun hadn’t meant for that to happen. Regardless, his smile is less cheery and a lot tighter.

“I… I don’t think Chan will be around for a while.”

“You-” Jisung has a million questions running around in his head, though he’s cut off by someone yelling Yeonjun’s name, and he squeezes his eyes shut as soon as he recognises it.

Soobin bounces over, and Yeonjun’s  _ entire  _ face lights up, and so, Jisung takes that as his cue to leave the café and probably never fucking come back. 

Jisung can’t remember exactly when he had started to crush on Soobin. There was definitely something about his intelligence that made him attractive to Jisung, his wit, and eagerness to learn. Jisung thinks they had a grand total of three study sessions together before Soobin became someone he couldn’t speak to without stuttering his way through a sentence. Soobin had been oblivious the whole time- clearly- so when Jisung  _ had  _ asked him out he’d been taken aback. 

Sitting here with Soobin now, in the library, a few days after he saw him at the cafe with Yeonjun, Jisung begins to wonder if he was ever crushing on him at all. Soobin is sweet and handsome, he has a nice face and a lovely smile to go with it. But Jisung’s mind is plagued with the thoughts of a boy- a  _ different  _ boy- and it becomes entirely too obvious when Soobin nudges him for staring at the same page for fifteen minutes. 

“Dude,” Soobin laughs, a hand coming to rest on Jisung’s shoulder, “I know finals are hard but like, are you  _ good?” _

Jisung’s eyes flicker to his hand before he focuses back on Soobin’s eyes.

“I guess.” He sighs, knowing he’s being dramatic. He pauses. “I think I have a crush?”

“Yeah.” Soobin says, a funny little smile on his face, “it’s me.”

_ “No,”  _ Jisung shoves Soobin as he begins to laugh, feeling his cheeks burning up in embarrassment. “Not you. Someone else.”

“Ouch dude. That fast?” Soobin says, not really sounding bothered at all.

“Shut up. I don’t know if it’s a crush yet. I don’t even know much about him, aside from the fact that he’s really cute and like, really smart.”

“Are you  _ sure  _ it’s not still me?”

“Soobin!”

“Okay, okay!” Soobin laughs, holding his hands up in defense as Jisung mimes to hit him again.

“I don’t know what to do.” Jisung sighs, resting his chin on his arms, “do you think I move too fast?”

Soobin hesitates.

“Not… exactly. But like, you said you don’t really know much about him- which means he probably doesn’t know much about you either, right?”

Jisung nods glumly. 

“Then I guess you… do nothing. Not right now, anyway. Get to know him better.” he pauses, “find out if he likes someone else-  _ ouch- okay sorry, I’m sorry!”  _

Jisung doesn’t know exactly what pushes him back into the drive of things. Perhaps it’s the knowledge that Chan probably has no interest in him, perhaps it’s the fact that  _ no one  _ has ever had  _ any  _ interest in him- regardless, he gets back to his life, his work, and attempts to pretend everything is okay.

Jisung thinks he’s doing a pretty good job at pretending. He attends his classes as usual, blocks out arguments between his roommates, and goes out for karaoke with Minho on Saturdays. So, he  _ thinks  _ he’s doing a good job.

“You’re not.” Minho snorts on Saturday, “literally no one is convinced you’re okay.”

“I’m  _ fine.”  _ Jisung insists, flopping against the stiff couch with a sigh. He spins the mic in his hand, a score of  _ 75 _ flashing on the screen. Seventy fucking five. On the  _ Frozen  _ soundtrack? 

“Dude, you haven’t stopped singing breakup songs since we got here.” 

Jisung frowns, “I just sang Into the Unknown.” 

“Which could  _ easily  _ be interpreted about heartbreak.”

“It’s about the secret siren!”

“Jisung.” Minho sighs, and his tone tells Jisung that he’s now being serious.

“What?” Jisung mutters irritably. He hasn’t necessarily tried to hide his bad mood, and clearly if he had it wasn’t working anyway, but he didn’t come to karaoke  _ to talk about his feelings.  _ If Jisung wanted to talk about his feelings he’d talk to Felix. Or Seungmin. Or Soobin. Or literally anyone but Lee Minho, what the fuck. 

“Are you… hung up on someone again?”

Jisung stills.

“What do you mean  _ again?”  _

“You know,” Minho starts, taking the mic out of Jisung’s hand. He doesn’t look at him as he flicks through the song list, “you get attached to people. Kind of quickly. So it’s not like… rare? For you to be hung up on someone.”

Jisung looks up, fiddling with his fingers in his lap. Minho selects a Girls’ Generation song. 

“It’s not… it’s not like that.” He says eventually. Minho nods, smiles, and begins to sing, leaving Jisung lost in his tumultuous thoughts. 

Overthinking is Jisung’s favourite hobby. He could- does- it during the entirety of his days and most of his nights. To Jisung, there is no such thing as a normal kind of thinking. It’s either no thoughts at all, or thinking so hard that everything becomes a blurry mess. So it comes as no surprise that he begins to overthink Minho’s words. Minho hadn’t necessarily been  _ wrong.  _ Jisung knows he falls too hard, too fast, over anyone and everyone. It isn’t  _ his  _ fault he so desperately wants to know everything about a person once they’re briefly acquainted. Jisung doesn’t think he has any casual friends; it’s all or nothing for him.

So to anyone who knows Jisung, the way he had acted regarding Chan wouldn’t have been strange. Except Chan  _ doesn’t  _ know Jisung, doesn’t know the kind of person he is and has always been, and therefore Jisung belatedly realises that turning up to Chan’s workplace when they’d only spoken like twice was, admittedly, a bit weird. 

He doesn’t go to the café after that, doesn’t mention Chan, even though it’s hard. He manages to push all thoughts about Chan to the back of his mind, and he actually feels like he’s doing a better job this time than the last. Minho had been right. He gets attached to people too quickly, and it isn’t rare for it to happen. But Jisung wants it to be. Rare. He wants to stop feeling so much all the time.

The opportunity presents itself beautifully on a Friday night, when Jisung is dragged to a house party by the one and only Hwang Hyunjin, who is celebrating passing his finals. Jisung had passed too, but studying wasn’t necessarily something that he found difficult. A majority of his creative writing course consisted of writing down whatever bullshit he could muster in that moment. Regardless, Hyunjin is intent on celebrating. 

“Why do we even need to celebrate.” Jisung groans as they trudge through the snow. His breath comes out in thin wisps in front of him when he speaks, and Jisung is once again reminded about how damn  _ cold  _ it is. “You literally study jewellery design. How can you  _ fail?”  _

Just for that comment, Hyunjin gives Jisung the silent treatment for the rest of their journey and abandons him as soon as they enter the house, which is just great for Jisung considering he doesn’t know a single person at the party. 

Jisung doesn’t even want to be here, he would  _ much  _ rather be at home with his Netflix account or with a book, hell, he’ll even take Minho as company. Minho had stayed behind to work on his crochet, a cute little habit he’d picked up recently. He had been sitting all cosy in the large armchair in the living room when Hyunjin and Jisung had left. Minho had whistled loudly at their outfits, though his gaze hadn’t lingered long and was immediately back onto the embroidery between his fingers, which Jisung supposes is the reason why Hyunjin hadn’t started a fight over it.

Jisung wanders through the house for a while, finds a few people that he recognises from his classes, though he doesn’t know their names, so sticking around for conversation doesn’t seem wise. He does  _ not  _ see Hyunjin, which is probably for the best, considering how Hyunjin had looked at him when he left him- which was not at all. Jisung makes a mental note to apologise to him when they leave.

Eventually Jisung pushes open a door at the end of the upstairs hallway, which doesn’t budge at first and makes him assume the worst, until he realises there’s simply something blocking it on the other side. A hard shove with his shoulder causes the door to fall open easily, though Jisung also tumbles into the room with the impact and finds himself stumbling over a huge pile of books.

The entirety of the room itself is laden with books. Large shelves line the walls, each of them filled with books of all types and sizes. Despite the ridiculous number of novels, the shelves are nowhere near organised. It looks a lot like someone had too many books and didn’t know what to do with them and so chose to haphazardly throw them into a single room and lock them away.

Jisung would very much like to explore the shelves, however his attention is drawn to the pile that had toppled out onto the floor. He picks up a single book, admiring the cover and then sits down to read the blurb.

Jisung doesn’t expect to get sucked into the book. Really, he had initially only been interested in the blurb, maybe the first chapter. But before he knows it, time is passing like the ripples of a river, quickly but quietly- until it comes to a sudden stop.

Jisung’s head shoots up at the sound, only a little scared of being caught for being a loser, though his heart rate speeds up for a dozen different reasons when in walks Chan.

“Jisung?” Chan laughs lightly, tilting his head and squinting his eyes to see in the dim light. Jisung shifts a little, because he wasn’t expecting any of this  _ at all _ , though Chan simply smiled brighter. “Haven’t seen you in a hot minute.” he continues as he enters the room fully.

_ And whose fault is that  _ Jisung thinks bitterly, proud of himself for only  _ thinking  _ it because he’s  _ not  _ attached, he  _ isn’t.  _

“Hey, bro.” His stupid brain says instead, fighting the urge to wince at the  _ bro  _ that just came out of his own silly little mouth. 

Chan nods before taking the seat next to Jisung on the floor. He sits crossed legged so their knees touch, and Jisung’s heart does a few backflips when Chan leans in a little, in attempt to see the cover.

“What’re you reading?” He asks.

“It’s called Salvage.” Jisung manages, somehow without stuttering or  _ bro _ ing. He mentally applauds himself for the feat. 

“Salvage.” Chan repeats, “What’s it about?” 

“Space.” Jisung answers, “and… shit.”

Chan snorts, “Sounds interesting. I love astronomy.”

“It’s barely astronomical.” Jisung explains, though Chan doesn’t seem to care.

“Okay.” He says, “I still love astronomy.”

Jisung laughs then, a little too carefree, though he allows it for himself. Sue him, Chan makes him feel carefree. 

“Did you really come here to use the house’s library?” Chan asks after a moment of silence and Jisung smiles a little, though it probably doesn’t look very happy.

“No.” he says after a moment of thought, “But there’s nothing to do at this party.”

Chan stands suddenly,

“Come with me.”

Jisung hesitates. He’s  _ really  _ trying not to get attached. If he goes with Chan, then that means kidding himself that they’re somewhat friends. He could totally sit here and read his silly little book in this silly little room surrounded by millions of other silly little books that won’t give a flying fuck if he gets attached to them or not.

But Chan is looking at him, head tilted and wide eyed, and his lips fall into a pout when he notices Jisung’s reluctance.

“Oh, unless you want to finish your book?” he says, and Jisung quickly shakes his head. _ No. He does not want to finish the book, _ he thinks as he stands up and follows the boy out of the room. 

Chan leads Jisung through the throngs of people in the upstairs hallway and down the stairs until they find themselves in the kitchen- also packed with people. If Chan is taking Jisung to get a drink, then Jisung thinks he might just run out of the front door. Chan does not offer Jisung a drink. 

They push their way through a few more crowds before Chan wrenches open a glass door at the back of the kitchen- the back door. 

The yard is empty, most likely because of how cold it is, and Jisung finds himself shivering as soon as he steps outside. The cold night hasn’t become any more sympathetic since he arrived, in fact, it has only grown more merciless. 

The wind whistles in the night, dragging across Jisung’s skin and leaving his ears and the tip of his nose a bright red.

Before Jisung can say anything, Chan is tugging off his own jacket and draping it over Jisung’s shoulders, and Jisung can’t tell if it’s Chan’s smile or his jacket that’s keeping him warm.

Despite lending Jisung a fraction of his warmth, Chan still insists that they sit on the freezing ground, ignoring Jisung’s whines about hypothermia and the like. 

“I’ll sue you.” Jisung weakly threatens, teeth chattering and hands clenched tightly around the large jacket, “Really, I will. For giving me pneumonia- I have a weak immune system you know, the cold isn’t good for me, and tomorrow I’ll wake up with-”

“Hypothermia, yes, yes Jisung I am quite aware, but  _ look.”  _ Chan’s pointing at something in the sky and Jisung squints because why the fuck is Chan indicating towards the mass amounts of light pollution- until Jisung realises exactly what Chan is pointing at. 

One of the stars amongst the others is twinkling rather brightly, a little larger and brighter than the others, clearly the  _ star  _ of the show.

“Wow.” Jisung breathes, “That star is pretty.”

Chan grins, 

“it isn’t a star actually. That’s Venus.”

“Like the planet?” Jisung asks.

“No like the goddess.” Chan teases, and Jisung shoves him when he laughs. “Do you know how to spot Orion’s belt?” 

Jisung shakes his head, eyes still fixated on Venus.

Chan’s finger moves southwards and Jisung follows it eagerly, watching as Chan traces out three stars in an almost straight line.

“His shoulders,” Chan says softly, “and his feet.”

Jisung continues to watch, enthralled, barely noticing when Chan’s eyes are no longer on the sky and aimed at him instead. 

“What?” Jisung says and Chan grins, though it’s nothing like the teasing smiles that Jisung has seen until now. It’s softer around the edges, genuine and raw. 

“Nothing.” Chan says, “It’s just that people don’t really care about astronomy-talk.”

_ “I  _ care.” Jisung insists, “Show me more!”

“Betelgeuse.” Chan says suddenly, pointing at another bright star, this time to the left. 

“Beetle what?” 

Chan laughs then, loud and bright, brighter than the stars that shine above them, like he’s a whole other planet on his own and Jisung swears that, at that moment, not even Venus has the ability to outshine him.

Jisung barely feels the cold as Chan continues to point things out in the sky. Eventually, each star comes with an explanation, a history of when and how Chan learnt the name of it, his favourite stars, and stars he wishes could be seen with the naked eye.

Jisung thinks he could listen to Chan talk astronomy all day, until he feels his eyes beginning to droop, sleepy and content under the bright sky and the man who just explored it with him.

“Do you have a ride home?” Chan asks when Jisung almost nods off for the sixth time in a row. 

“I have-” Jisung is cut off by his phone ringing in his pocket and he apologises quickly before answering it.

“Sungie!” Hyunjin’s voice comes through the phone, loud and dramatic. He’s slurring a little, though Jisung is barely surprised. What does surprise him however, is the teary edge to Hyunjin’s tone.

“Jinnie?” Jisung says softly, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah- yeah fine, I just, I feel bad for ditching you. Sorry for being an ass, are you- are you okay? Can we go home?”

Jisung smiles, hoping it doesn’t seep into his voice,

“It’s fine, really Jin, where are you? We can go home.”

Hyunjin hiccups a little, sounding significantly less teary, and prattles off about a very specific location in the house just before Jisung hangs up.

“So uh,” Jisung smiles tightly at Chan, who had been looking at the sky the whole time Jisung had been on the phone. When Jisung addresses him, Chan looks at him once again. “Thanks for uh, keeping me company.” he finishes awkwardly. 

Chan opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, so Jisung thinks quickly and tugs off the jacket that he’d ended up wearing completely. Chan looks confused as Jisung drops the garment into his lap, and turns away to head back to the house. 

Jisung thinks he distantly hears Chan calling his name. He can’t be sure, but turning back around would mean showing signs of being  _ attached,  _ and Jisung is  _ not,  _ so he enters the house and immediately seeks out Hyunjin, who is exactly where he said he’d be. 

“Hey Jinnie.” Jisung soothes, brushing Hyunjin’s long hair out of his eyes. Hyunjin leans into the touch, smiling all dazedly under the bright lights. “Ready to go home?” Jisung asks and when Hyunjin nods, he assists in helping the boy carry his own five-foot nine frame out of the front door and into their car. The drive home is quiet, with Hyunjin snoring softly in the passenger seat, Jisung doesn’t want to turn the radio on, and so opts to admire the star-clustered sky stretched out in front of him instead. 

Jisung wakes on Monday to the sound of yelling. He groans, rolling over onto his left to bury his face into his pillow, hoping that will block out some of the noise. It isn’t anything new; Monday mornings mean his roommates are equally cranky and therefore twice as likely to be fighting about something.

Jisung allows himself a further five minutes of inhaling his own pillow, waiting for the loud bickering to stop, and when it doesn’t he rolls out of bed completely and falls onto the floor with a thump. The sound is barely heard by his roommates, considering how they don’t stop arguing for even a second, and Jisung silently wills them to shut up for a further two minutes before dragging his body off the ground and standing upright. He manages to swipe a hoodie and pull it over his head as he stumbles out of the bedroom, fists rubbing at his eyes as he enters the kitchen. 

“What the hell guys.” Jisung mutters, heading straight for the coffee machine. Hyunjin and Minho quiet immediately, though the tension between them doesn’t dissipate. “What’s going on?” 

“Hyung bought an airfryer.”

Jisung turns slowly, confused.

“What’s so bad about an airfr-” He pauses, a conversation from a few weeks ago appearing in his mind as Minho’s cracks a grin. “Hyung.” He groans. “No way.  _ Really?  _ Airfryers are expensive! And you bought one as a  _ threat?”  _

“No!” Minho protests, but the way he’s laughing, so fucking amused with himself gives it all away, “airfrying is a lot healthier than regular frying!”

“Who cares about health if  _ I’m  _ the one being fried.” Hyunjin cuts in.

“Me and Jisungie.” Minho answers, sickly sweet.

“Minh-” Jisung barely gets out before they’re arguing again and Jisung feels like throwing his boiling cup of coffee over the two five-year-olds in front of him.

Instead, he pours his drink into a small thermos and takes it back to his room, sipping from it as he gets ready for class.

“Minho and Hyunjin again?” Jongho snickers when Jisung slides into the seat next to him. Jisung glowers as he sips from his coffee, still mostly warm and a reminder of the nightmare waiting for him when he gets home. Across the hall he can see Minho sitting right at the back, arms crossed and snoozing away. He has no idea how Minho wakes up at 7am, has an entire altercation with his equally feisty roommate, and then turns up to 8am classes looking like some Greek-god. Really, it should be illegal.

“Yeah.” Jisung sighs in response to Jongho’s earlier question, ‘Sometimes I wish Minho-hyung had done his stupid apprenticeship  _ after  _ his degree so he’d have made some friends his own age and would move the fuck out.”

“You don’t mean that.” Jongho scolds lightly and Jisung feels the guilt before he’s even said it.

“I don’t.” He agrees. He looks over at Minho who’s starting to sit up now that their professor has entered. Minho catches his eye and throws a wave and a wink in his direction and Jisung manages a smile. “I wish Hyunjin would move out.”

Jongho manages to stifle his laughter just as the lecturer begins. 

Linguistic lectures that don’t involve any sort of creative writing always somehow manage to put Jisung to sleep. They are, first of all, always before 10am, which is way too damn early to function, and also there is absolutely nothing interesting about  _ syntax.  _

“Remember,” the professor drones on, “Syntax is simply a snowflake embedded inside another snowflake embedded in another…”

Jisung looks over to where Jongho is deftly writing out every single  _ snowflake  _ that the lecturer talks about, as if he doesn’t say this  _ every single lesson.  _ Jisung catches Minho’s gaze as he rolls his eyes discreetly, and Jisung has to suppress a laugh, though Jongho glares at him anyway.

_ “Concentrate.”  _ Jongho hisses and Jisung flicks an eraser at him.

“I am.” He tries to whisper and fails. Luckily, their lecturer is still talking about snowflakes, and way too absorbed in his own words to pay attention to Han Jisung. 

“Yeah, sure.” Jongho sceptically eyes the almost-blank document pulled up on Jisung’s laptop screen. “He’s going to explain the project at the end, pay attention.”

Jisung thinks Jongho’s roommate, Seonghwa, is having  _ way  _ too much of an influence if the way he keeps an eye on him for the rest of the lecture is anything to go by. 

Jisung barely pays attention to his project until three days later. All he had remembered the professor saying was a sociolinguistics project and he’d completely zoned out once more. He knew the details would be sent in email form later, so paying attention just hadn’t been a priority at the time. Having a staring contest with Minho who was seated across the room, however- yes that was what he had prioritised.

Jisung rolls over in bed, squinting at his phone. He hasn’t even been awake for a full ten minutes yet so seeing is  _ hard.  _ He scrolls through his emails before he gets to the one he needs, glancing over various terminology until he manages to actually get to the task part. 

_ Those opting for the sociolinguistics project will be teaming up with a student from the school of jewellery.  _

He reads. And then stops reading. School of jewellery is easy enough- Jisung’s mind goes to one person. 

Jisung rolls out of bed and walks into the kitchen to find Minho fiddling with the god-forsaken airfryer, a half eaten toast in his mouth.

“Where’s Hyunjin?” Jisung asks as he sets about making himself a coffee. 

“Fuck should I know.” Minho mutters, “Do you think I could airfry bread?”

Jisung snorts,

“Why would you-?” 

“Like, French toast?” 

Jisung pauses. That doesn’t sound so bad. Eventually, he shrugs.

“Try it.” He supplies uselessly before grabbing his coffee and leaving the kitchen. He pops his head back in just to call out, “tell me when Hyunjin is home!” to which Minho responds with a prompt  _ no.  _

Jisung spends a large majority of his morning working on the project. Whilst he’s a major procrastinator with creative writing, things such as linguistics come a lot easier to him, although it’s also the more boring between the two.

He manages to complete a good few slides for his presentation by lunchtime, and he’s all ready to ask Hyunjin to be his partner when he enters the kitchen, only to find a faint smell of burning and no Hyunjin.

“What the hell.” He mutters as he sets about to fix himself a sandwich. 

Jisung is halfway through a sandwich as well as an airfryer inspection when Minho saunters in, freezing by the door frame when he sees Jisung in the kitchen. There’s a towel around his waist, another one slung over his shoulder, hair dripping wet and water falling down his skin.

Jisung barely pays him any attention.

“Why does it smell like burning in here?” He asks, still studying the airfryer. 

“It doesn’t.” Minho responds.

“It does,” Jisung continues, “it  _ stinks.” _

“It literally doesn’t!” Minho protests, “I opened the windows before I-”

Jisung raises an eyebrow,

“Hyung what did you  _ do?”  _

“Nothing! Burnt something! Go! Shoo! Out of my kitchen!”

Jisung barely has time to grab his sandwich before he’s being ushered out of the kitchen.

His brain is fried and his roommates are completely unavailable so Jisung does the next best thing; gets dressed and leaves the apartment.

Jisung rarely leaves his house unless it’s for classes so he finds himself a little lost until he ends up on the familiar route to the karaoke bar, not far-off campus. 

Jisung rarely visits karaoke places alone, and he remembers why when the staff shoots him an almost pitying look. He wants to yell that he’s simply  _ bored  _ and he likes to  _ sing,  _ screw him but instead he stays quiet and takes the key. 

He gets a little caught up in the karaoke room by himself. He isn’t looking to socialise and make friends and he most definitely does not want to see anyone that he already knows, however the time still flies by although he’s alone.

He emerges from the bar feeling elated, a little drunk though he hadn’t drunk anything at all. He hopes Hyunjin will be home so they can talk about the project and he can feel even further happy.

Except things don’t go exactly as planned.

Hyunjin  _ is  _ home when Jisung returns, sitting on one of the bar stools in the kitchen and snacking on some French toast. Surprisingly Minho is next to him, and they’re  _ not  _ arguing.

“Hey!” Jisung greets, dropping into the space next to them. He snags a piece of toast and hums in approval. “These are good, hyung.” Minho beams.

“So, Jinnie, I have this project.” Jisung begins, “For linguistics. We have to partner with someone-”

“-from the school of jewellery.” Hyunjin finishes. Jisung beams, happy that Hyunjin is thinking about the same thing. Hyunjin looks nervous all of a sudden, “I uh- I hope you weren’t going to ask me to be your partner, Sung.”

Jisung frowns, 

“I was actually, why-?”

“I already partnered with someone.”

“What the fuck-  _ who?” _

There’s a pause. And then, very quietly,

“Minho.”

_ “Minho?”  _ Jisung  _ screeches.  _ Suddenly the French toast all makes sense. He turns to Minho who is looking ridiculously pink, “Did you make French toast to  _ bribe  _ our roommate to partner with you? When you could easily use your own social skills and partner with literally  _ anyone?” _

“I didn’t know you were going to ask Hyunjin!”

“Why did you  _ think  _ I’ve been looking for him all day?”

“To play Minecraft dude I don’t know!”

“And  _ you,”  _ Jisung seethes turning back to Hyunjin, “You don’t even  _ like  _ Minho! He wants to put you in an airfryer!”

“He promised not to threaten me whilst we’re working together.” Hyunjin squeaks.

“You need to calm down.” Minho scolds, “Find yourself another partner, Jisung. You don’t  _ own  _ Hyunjin.”

“I do.” Jisung mutters childishly. Hyunjin lets out a noise that sounds dangerously close to a squawk and Jisung huffs. “Fine. But hyung you have to help me think of someone else to partner with. I don’t know anyone in the jewellery school!”

“We’ll help.” Hyunjin promises.

“You’re no help.” Jisung mutters a few days later. Minho is giggling behind his tiny little hand over the absurd suggestion he just made, something about Jisung partnering up with  _ Soonie.  _

“I promise she can make jewellery!”

“Shut the fuck up, hyung.” Jisung groans, not in the mood for this at all. 

“Hey isn’t that your crush?”

Jisung whips around so fast he almost knocks his coffee off the table. Sure they’re sitting in what he’d deemed ‘Chan’s’ café but he was almost entirely sure the boy didn’t work here anymore. Unless-

“San?” Jisung says, a little too loud because the boy looks over from his table. “I don’t have a crush on San.” He tells Minho, frowning.

“How can you not have a crush on San? Anyways, not him.” Minho tuts, “the kid  _ behind  _ San.”

Jisung cranes his neck. Pauses. Soobin.

He doesn’t manage to say anything because San is walking over, his boyfriend in tow, grinning brightly like he always does when he sees a friend.

“Hey Minho, Jisung!” San chirps sliding into the seat next to Minho. He pulls his boyfriend in next to him, a tall boy with dark hair and an equally contagious smile, “This is Wooyoung. I’ve actually been trying to introduce him to my friends.”

“Hey Wooyoung.” Minho waves a hand and Jisung wants to crawl into a hole. He isn’t here to make  _ friends.  _ He’s here to sort out his problems  _ without  _ Hyunjin to laugh at him every time he has a breakdown over them. “How long have you guys been together?” Minho continues, as if Jisung isn’t making very obvious eyes at him. 

“Three months.” Wooyoung holds up three fingers proudly, and Jisung has to grab his mug tightly before Wooyoung almost sends it flying once more. 

“Woosan.” San says quietly. 

“Woo-?” Minho asks.

“Woosan!” Wooyoung says, louder, “together we’re Woosan!”

“Oh man,” Minho laughs, “That’s adorable.”

“Woosan?” Another voice pipes up, just as Jisung begins to contemplate defenestration. “What’s Woosan?” Soobin is looking so cute, Jisung is finding it hard to be mad at him, until Yeonjun sidles up behind him. Yeah. Now Jisung can be mad.

“Wooyoung and San.” Minho explains, “Woosan.”

“Oh!” Yeonjun smiles brightly, and Jisung knows what’s coming before it even does, “So we’re Yeonbin then!”

“Yeonbin!” Soobin squeals, “Yeonbin, Yeonbin, Yeonbin.” 

“Not as cute as Woosan.” Wooyoung says, “But still cute.”

“Yeonbin.” Soobin repeats.

“Jisung?” San says suddenly, “Are you okay?”

_ No.  _ His brain is still doing a  _ Yeonbin  _ loop in the sound of Soobin’s voice.

“Yes,” Jisung grits out, “I’m yeonb-  _ fine.”  _

Jisung isn’t sure how long he sits there, wedged between two absolutely gross couples, being, well, gross. Minho doesn’t seem to give a single fuck, in fact, he  _ encourages  _ it and Jisung is surprised that he manages  _ not  _ to throw up.

Eventually, Wooyoung and San go back to their table and Yeonjun gets back to work. Soobin sticks around for a while until he has a class and  _ finally,  _ it’s just Minho and Jisung again.

“That was painful.” Jisung mutters, staring at his cold coffee. Yeonjun had offered to get him another but Jisung had told him it was fine even though it really wasn’t.

“You’re dramatic.” Minho says, rolling his eyes. He takes a sip of his own coffee, lovely and warm because  _ he’d  _ taken up Yeonjun’s offer of having another. He hadn’t even made him pay. Bastard. 

“I’m not dramatic, hyung, how could you make me sit here with all those  _ couples  _ around us? You know what my current predicament is with romance!” 

“Han Jisung.” Minho sighs, “Look, I know it sucks that Soobin didn’t like you back but you can’t hate  _ Yeonjun  _ because of it. And you definitely can’t hate  _ everyone  _ who’s in a relationship just because you want to!”

“I can.” Jisung sniffs, “and I will.”

“Jisung.” Minho warns. 

Jisung flicks his gaze away and then proceeds to bury his face in his arms.

_ “Hyung,”  _ He whines, “I just want to be  _ happy.  _ Happy  _ with someone.” _

“Sungie,” Minho sighs softly, “You’ll find someone, someone you deserve and someone who likes you just as much as you like them.  _ You will.  _ But you really need to stop this whole ‘I can’t be happy if I’m single’ bullshit because it’s not  _ it.  _ You’ll never be happy like that.”

Jisung taps his fingertips against the table, lifting his head to rest it on his arms. In the distance he can hear Wooyoung giggling. He hasn’t stopped since they sat down.

“You’re right.” Jisung says, as much as it pains him to do so. “Let’s get back to brainstorming.”

Minho lists as many people as he can think of from the jewellery department, most of them being either complete strangers to Jisung or people he is absolutely petrified of.

“Jewellers are scary!” Jisung defends when Minho gapes at the fact that he’s scared of  _ Jeongin.  _ “Maybe I’ll just hang around the jewellery school for a few days and act like a loser and someone will take pity on me and ask to be partners.”

“No.” Minho snorts, “That’s pathetic even for  _ you.” _

“You’re being real mean today, hyung, you know that?”

Minho sticks out his tongue in response. 

“Why don’t you just drop the sociolingo and do the creative writing project instead? You must know someone from the art department.”

Jisung pauses.

“There’s  _ two  _ options?”

“Oh my god, Jisung.”

Minho makes him pull up the email and shows him how to  _ read.  _ Surely, underneath the  _ Those opting for the sociolinguistics project will be teaming up with a student from the school of jewellery  _ is another sentence  _ Those opting for the creative writing project will be teaming up with a student from the school of creative arts.  _

“I don’t know anyone from creative arts, hyung.” Jisung deadpans. 

“We are  _ literally  _ in a café  _ filled  _ with art. Ask someone here!”

“What the hell I can’t just-” 

“Hey!” Minho yells out and Jisung wants to  _ die,  _ because Minho is so sociable and confident and it causes things like yelling at random strangers walking past and having no shame whilst doing so.

_ “Hyung.”  _ Jisung hisses, too scared to turn around and see whoever Minho just yelled at, “You don’t even know if they’re an art student.”

“He has to be. Look at him!”

Minho is being  _ way  _ too loud and Jisung once again finds himself thinking about defenestration, when the person comes into his view and he realises it’s  _ Bang fucking Chan. _

“This is my friend, Jisung.” Minho continues, oblivious or not, Jisung does not know. “He needs a partner for the creative writing/art team up project. Do you have one?”

“Hyung it’s fine I can find someone-”

“I don’t.” Chan cuts in, “have a partner.” He clarifies quickly, and then smiles all bright-eyes and dimples, “I’m happy to help! Not like it’ll be the first time I’m helping you out with your writing, right Jisung?”

Minho’s gaze flickers between them, bemused and Jisung is way too stunned to do anything but nod in agreement. Chan grins and throws them both a wave before sauntering away.

“Do you know him?” Minho asks eventually and Jisung groans, head falling onto the table.

“You don’t even  _ want  _ to know.” 

Chan and Jisung had agreed to meet up at the library, a few days later after Jisung’s last class. The winter sun is shining brightly, streaming in through the windows and casting a glow on all the stocked shelves. Jisung loves the large windows in the library. In the winter, it makes a perfect space to curl up into a bean bag with a book, cosy and warm. He, unfortunately, does not have the luxury of being in a bean bag whilst working with Chan, however.

They have their work spread out over one of the tables, Jisung’s laptop and ridiculous amounts of paper and Chan’s sketchpad, art utensils, and tablet. 

“So give me a basic plot.” Chan says, pencil tapping against his paper. He’s looking a lot less intimidating today in a fluffy, checked sweater and black jeans. He hasn’t even styled his hair, bangs covering his forehead and Jisung decides this may be one of his favourite looks on Chan. Soft, sweet, natural.

“So think like, sci-fi mixed fantasy,” Jisung begins and as usual, once he starts talking, he finds that he can’t stop. He tells Chan about his characters, the scene and the setting, the exact century as well as the town that he had researched which would be the perfect place for his story to take place in. Chan listens intently, taking in every word it seems, until Jisung sees that Chan is  _ smiling.  _

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing.” Chan responds, still smiling, “this just sounds familiar.”

Shut up.” Jisung says, rolling his eyes.

“Okay, continue.”

“That’s the thing,” Jisung admits slowly, “I have no idea what happens next.”

Chan raises an eyebrow,

“Isn’t this, like,  _ your  _ plot?”

“Yeah? That doesn’t mean I know what’s happening?”

Chan doesn’t say anything for a moment before he eventually nods, in understanding.

“Okay, yeah, I think I can work with that.” 

Jisung is about to ask work with  _ what  _ but Chan has already flipped open his sketchbook, his pencil hitting the paper in smooth strokes as he begins to draw. 

“Wait- how are you going to draw when you don’t know the plot properly, not even  _ I  _ know the plot properly.”

“It’s fine, it’s not like I’m sketching a comic strip- oh! Wait, in case you want inspiration…” Chan trails off, dropping his pencil to rummage around in his bag. Jisung watches, intrigued. Eventually, Chan pulls out a thick book and holds it out as an offering, “here.”

“Isn’t this- how did you-?” Jisung is confused, though he immediately recognises it as the book he had been reading at the party. 

“Just take it.” Chan is still smiling, “it’s for you.”

Jisung only hesitates for a further seconds before taking the book out of Chan’s hand. He flips through the chapters, eventually finding where he’d left off. He manages to get sucked into the book whilst Chan sketches quietly next to him. The book becomes more interesting the more Jisung reads, and he soon finds himself so absorbed in the author’s words, that he forgets his surroundings. Only does Jisung realise the time when he has to start squinting to see the words on the page and notices that the library has in fact gone dark. Not only has the sun slipped away, but so has Chan, as the seat next to Jisung is now vacant. Chan has, once again, slipped away without Jisung noticing. 

Jisung isn’t sure why he winds up at the café a few days later. He isn’t able to dwell on his own intentions, however, when he notices something incredibly  _ off  _ about the interior. Belatedly, he notices the bare walls, stripped from the art they had previously been adorned with, leaving flaky white paint in its wake. 

To Jisung’s surprise, Chan is behind the counter, and waves him over once their eyes meet.

“Hey,” Jisung says, finding himself surprisingly at ease. He orders his drink, and is wondering how to politely ask about what happened to the art on the walls, though just when he manages to gather the courage, Chan is stuttering through a sentence.

“Would you- maybe want… want to-” before he can finish, someone bursts out of the kitchen. It’s an older man, one that Jisung hasn’t seen around before and therefore does not recognise.

Chan presses his lips together, as if he’s trying to seal away his sentence. He shoots Jisung a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and Jisung finds himself ultimately confused, wants to ask what’s wrong, if he can make anything better, though Chan has already turned to the next customer to take their order and so Jisung takes that as his cue to leave.

A few days pass without Jisung seeing Chan. Not that he’s actively  _ looking  _ for him, but Jisung had expected Chan to seek him out considering they were working on a project together now.

Jisung is at home when the ideas start to come to him, and he quickly grabs a pen, scribbling down plot ideas into sentences that he hopes will make sense later. Jisung  _ really  _ needs to see Chan, these words won’t be legible until he  _ tells someone,  _ except he has absolutely zero contact with Chan. No phone number, not even an email and Jisung is all prepared to tell it to  _ himself,  _ maybe Hyunjin or Minho will listen to him speak if he badgers them enough.

Somewhere in the distance a door bangs and Jisung winces, praying that what he thinks is about to happen won’t. 

His prayers don’t reach anywhere as not even five seconds later Minho and Hyunjin  _ explode  _ from somewhere in the living room. Jisung can’t even make out what they’re yelling about and he’s not looking to find out. He spends a total of three minutes trying to write with his roommates yelling in the room over until he eventually gives up, grabbing his notebook and pen and walking out into the living room.

Hyunjin and Minho pause, clearly startled at Jisung’s abruptness, but he doesn’t even have it in him to tell them off for their pettiness. Instead of responding to their questions, Jisung pulls on his shoes and storms out of the apartment. 

The study rooms are, unsurprisingly, empty. The snow has long since melted away, leaving campus grounds in nothing but slight dampness, however the cold lingers on and is therefore way too cold for rational people to be leaving the safety of their housing. Jisung, as it seems, is not a rational person. 

Jisung doesn’t realise he’s stepping into the same study room that he’d used a few months back, but when he pushes the door open, the interior of the room as well as a warm, welcoming voice remind him quickly.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Chan is nowhere to be seen, despite his distinct voice sounding clearly through the room, so Jisung steps inside only to find Chan situated in a corner of the small room, easel and canvas propped in front of him. 

“Chan hyung,” Jisung says lamely, though Chan simply beams in response. Jisung pouts, “Why did you leave so quietly last time?”

“You were reading,” Chan responds, gaze returning to his painting, “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Jisung gains a sudden burst of confidence,

“At least give me some method of contact to reach you with next time.”

Chan’s hand stills in mid-air and his expression is so perfectly blank that Jisung worries he’s said something wrong, perhaps crossed an unspoken line and now Chan’s uncomfortable. To Jisung’s relief Chan smiles again and sets down his art supplies to pull his phone out of his pocket. 

“About time you asked.” He says with a silly little grin on his face, and Jisung isn’t even sure what Chan means by that, but for some reason it makes his sour mood dissipate completely and makes him incredibly happy. 

“Have you made any progress on that plot?” Chan asks once they’ve switched numbers. Jisung had entirely forgotten his main purpose of coming to that study room. Chan tends to do that to him; make him forget everything else going on. 

“I have!” Jisung responds excitedly and soon finds himself launching into another long explanation about what he had brainstormed that morning. Eventually, Chan continues to draw, though he assures Jisung he’s still listening. Jisung isn’t sure he is, until Chan asks a question, and then another, causing Jisung to marvel at how Chan is perfect at everything- even multitasking. 

It’s easier to write whilst talking to Chan. Jisung loves his roommates, most of the time, but their bickering has been getting on Jisung’s nerves lately. Perhaps it’s the stress, or perhaps it’s the fact that it seemed like Minho and Hyunjin had been arguing more than usual- whatever it is, it’s slowly driving Jisung nuts. Finding the motivation as well as the brain cells to get any work done for college is already a huge task in itself; Jisung doesn’t need the chaos of his roommates thrown into that and ultimately making everything harder for him.

And perhaps that is what Jisung enjoys about working with Chan. Chan makes everything easier. Jisung finds the words flowing even whilst he chats away, their conversation straying from Jisung’s plot to all sorts of other topics. Chan tells Jisung about his family in a different country, how he misses his dog and how he wanted to be a dancer when he was younger. Jisung talks about his own family, a simple train ride away, but miss-able all the same. He tells Chan about the time he fell off his skateboard as a kid which resulted in the small scar under his left eye. He tells Chan about his favourite novels and Chan tells him how he came to Korea to study dance and instead ended up taking the arts route.

Jisung doesn’t think he’s ever spoken about himself so much in his life. Hyunjin and Minho already knew everything about him, considering how long they’ve known each other, and the rest of Jisung’s friends seem to just figure shit out as they go. Chan asks questions, something that Jisung isn’t accustomed to, but welcomes regardless. It’s nice to speak about himself. 

When Jisung hits a writer’s block he barely notices, until Chan casually mentions how his pen has been paused in mid-air for a good fifteen minutes now.

“Everything sounds wrong,” Jisung explains, “and I’m scared if I read over it I’ll end up scribbling out the progress I’ve already made.”

“Maybe your book can help again?’ Chan suggests and Jisung sighs.

“I left it at home.” 

“Oh, then maybe we can pack up and you can go home?”

For some reason the idea of going home sounds absolutely awful to Jisung’s ears. He isn’t sure if he’s ready to face whatever Minho and Hyunjin were arguing about, and no doubt  _ still  _ arguing about. It must show on his face because Chan is quick to make another suggestion. 

“…unless there’s somewhere else you want to go? For fun?”

Jisung pauses.

“Yeah.” He says after a moment, “I’ll show you.”

Jisung expects some teasing from Chan when they find themselves outside a karaoke bar, but it never comes. Instead, Chan insists on paying and surprisingly has  _ very  _ stable vocals.

Jisung watches in awe as Chan belts songs at the top of his lungs, giggling through them but also somehow managing to sound perfectly in his element. When Chan gets three almost-perfect scores in a row Jisung claps loudly, and he’s surprised to see Chan’s cheeks flushing a light pink.

“Wow!” Jisung hollers, “look at you go! You never told me you had that in you!”

“Had what.” Chan mumbles, clearly embarrassed, but he’s still smiling. Jisung wonders if he ever stops. “Your turn.” he says, handing his mic off to Jisung.

Jisung isn’t there to sound perfect. He picks the most difficult rock song he can find, and practically  _ screams  _ the lyrics, making Chan roll off the couch in laughter.

“Wait, wait,” Chan gasps out, stumbling a little as he tries to stand. They haven’t drank anything, but Jisung feels that they may be mutually drunk off one another’s energy. Chan manages to get another mic and they end up doing a silly little duet, a song that Jisung hasn’t even heard of before, which means he’s terribly off-tune.

Chan throws an arm over Jisung’s shoulder when it gets to the chorus, pulling him close so Jisung is forced to put his own arm around Chan’s waist or have it squished between them.

Jisung doesn’t think he’s had this much fun at a karaoke bar in a long, long time. The way Chan doesn’t take any of it seriously, doesn’t poke fun at Jisung for not knowing the lyrics and instead only laughs hysterically every time he messes up the lyrics.

Jisung is so caught up in everything  _ Chan,  _ his head thrown back in mock-passion, his nose, his lips, his eyes, Jisung barely notices when it’s his turn to sing.

“Sung,” Chan giggles into his face and he’s so  _ close,  _ his bangs brush against Jisung’s forehead and Jisung doesn’t quite know what he’s thinking when he drops the mic from his hand, slips his other hand around Chan’s waist too and pulls him close.

Chan looks surprised, but he doesn’t pull away, doesn’t look disgusted, so Jisung presses their mouths together and kisses him hard. Chan doesn’t respond- doesn’t get a chance to- because Jisung pulls away as fast as he’d pulled himself in. 

“I’m sorry- shit- I’m sorry, oh my god-”

“Jisung-” Chan is saying, but Jisung doesn’t listen, doesn’t want to hear it, because holy  _ fuck  _ he just kissed  _ Bang Chan,  _ his goddamn project partner who probably doesn’t care about him in that way at all, holy shit.

Jisung moves in a blur, one moment he’s in the karaoke room and the next he’s got his bag on his back and he’s out on the streets- running, so fast, from who or what he isn’t sure.

The sprint back to his apartment is filled with thoughts of perplexity; worry that Chan hates him, worry that he’s messed everything up, worry that Minho was right. Jisung gets  _ way  _ too attached,  _ way  _ too fast and has no idea how to slow down, and most of all, no idea how to stop. 

The apartment is dark when Jisung gets back, dark and quiet, which allows for him to peacefully get ready for bed; as peaceful as he can with his own thoughts plaguing his mind, and eventually, toss and turn into a not-so-peaceful sleep. 

Jisung isn’t accustomed to waking to silence. However when he wakes the next day there’s pure silence throughout the apartment, and he frowns, because it’s  _ morning  _ and there’s no way he’d automatically wake up this early.

It takes him a few minutes to notice the gentle knocking coming from the other side of his bedroom door, and he sits up, squinting.

“Come in?” He calls out hesitantly. His roommates  _ never  _ knock on his door. 

Despite this, Minho and Hyunjin walk in tentatively, a breakfast tray in Hyunjin’s hand. 

“Good morning.” Minho smiles, brushing Jisung’s hair out of his eyes. Jisung tilts his head, eyes them suspiciously,

“What’s-”

“We’re sorry for being shitty roommates.” Hyunjin cuts in, “Like,  _ really  _ sorry. We know we can be too much sometimes.”

“Yeah, sorry you have to deal with us. We’ll be better.”

Jisung laughs then, shaking his head. He’s never seen Minho and Hyunjin look  _ remorseful,  _ let alone look remorseful  _ together.  _ He’s both surprised and flattered to be on the receiving end of a rare apology. 

“It’s okay I guess.” He shuffles along in bed a little, allowing Hyunjin and Minho to take a seat. 

“Where did you go last night?” Minho asks, somewhat hesitant.

Jisung sighs.

“Study room. I uh, saw Chan there.”

“Oh!” Hyunjin is smirking, so Jisung figures that Minho must have told him- well whatever Minho knew.

“Don’t get any ideas.” Jisung sighs again, “I can’t believe I got attached to  _ Bang Chan,  _ of all people. He’s like- so out of my league.”

“Yeah he is.” Minho says cheekily. Hyunjin gives him a shove.

“You are  _ not  _ helping, hyung.”

Minho shoves him back.

“Well I don’t see  _ you-” _

“I swear to god if you two start fighting right now-” Jisung begins to say, his threat cut off by Hyunjin laughing loudly, and the three of them falling into a pile of limbs and giggles. 

Jisung attempts to push the unfortunate night out of his mind. It isn’t hard either. Not with how Hyunjin and Minho seem to have become insistent on them constantly spending time as a trio. There are movie nights in the evening and ‘family’ cooking times, as well as ‘family’ breakfasts and ‘family’ lunches on the weekends. The apartment has also started to look suspiciously clean, like Minho and Hyunjin have not only discovered the vacuum cleaner but also how to use it. Jisung is more than happy with this improvement, though he warily wonders how long it’ll last.

Because of this slight shift in routine and lifestyle, Jisung finds little time for anything else. He enjoys spending time with his roommates, they click in a way that he doesn’t really click with anyone else. Sure Hyunjin and Minho still bicker over stupid shit, but it no longer escalates as much as it used to. Jisung no longer finds himself being awoken by Hyunjin’s shrieks or Minho’s yells, and it’s rather pleasant. 

They’re having ‘family’ study time one evening when Jisung’s laptop dings with a new email. He groans, burying his face into Minho’s lap from where he sits next to him. Minho is lying on the couch, Hyunjin’s legs draped over his own. Jisung has never seen them be so touchy with each other, but it’s another welcomed change. He’d started to grow a little self-conscious over the fact that he was the only one in this house who was initiating skinship.

“Are you going to check that?” Minho asks, sliding a hand through Jisung’s hair.

“Yeah.” Jisung responds though he makes no effort to move. Hyunjin tosses him his laptop and it lands on Jisung’s stomach, causing him to let out a yelp. 

Jisung is expecting an email from college, or his bank, or his service provider, or even their landlord. What Jisung  _ isn’t  _ expecting is Chan’s name in his inbox, an email with no subject, just an attachment. He opens it slowly, a little scared, mostly bewildered, and finds a picture.

Upon closer inspection Jisung realises it’s a drawing, more specifically  _ Chan’s drawing.  _

The attention to detail is beyond beautiful. Chan has etched out every character with utmost care, and somehow managed to convey personality in their expressions. Jisung thinks perhaps Chan has managed to capture their character with his art better than Jisung ever did with his words. It’s a simple piece with the main characters surrounded by the opening setting, yet it’s somehow a million times more wonderful than Jisung had ever expected it to be.

“Guys,” He manages to stutter out, “take a look at this.” 

Hyunjin and Minho crowd around him almost immediately, and they’re both silent for a few minutes whilst they take in the drawing.

“What the fuck.” Hyunjin mutters eventually, “This guy is a prodigy.”

“Right?” Jisung chokes out.

“This is cool, Ji.” Minho says, “Are you going to email him back?”

Jisung pauses. Is he?  _ Should  _ he?

The idea of contacting Chan after kissing him and then running out on him does not sound like a favourable situation to be in at all. Jisung is aware that Chan had attempted to call him a few times, but he’s still feeling incredibly mortified about, well, everything. He really had convinced himself he wasn’t attached to Chan, not romantically anyway, and then he’d gone and kissed him, like a self-betrayal. 

Jisung knows that, realistically, it would be best to at least shoot Chan a ‘thanks.’ He’s honestly pretty impressed that Chan is even still his partner, let alone sending his own contribution to their project. Chan could have easily just thought of him as a weirdo and moved on, partnered with someone else, but Jisung supposes that their looming deadline as well as Chan’s incredibly kind nature had prevented that.

The deadline is a problem that Jisung battles with over the next few days, desperate to complete the short story he’d started. The plot had pretty much come together, and it’s only the writing process that’s giving him trouble now, but a few sleepless nights and long days later, Jisung manages to produce what he thinks is a finished product.

Jisung hovers over Minho’s left shoulder whilst he reads over Jisung’s work, incredibly petrified of whatever Minho’s about to tell him. The document is titled SHORT STORY- ACTUALLY FINISHED DRAFT OF THIRD DRAFT which, now looking back at it, Jisung doesn’t even know what that means, only knows that this is probably his tenth ‘final’ draft and most definitely won’t be the last.

“This is really good, Sung.” Minho says eventually, and over Minho’s right shoulder, Hyunjin sighs dramatically.

“Thank god.” He says, “I was more worried than Jisung.”

“I’m not that critical!” Minho protests, “and anyway, there’s nothing to criticise. This is amazing, it’s better than some published books I’ve read.”

“Considering the Shadowhunter Series are actual published books, that’s not a very high compliment.” Hyunjin snorts.

“Hey the Shadowhunter series is great!” Jisung defends.

“You’re not serious?” Minho whips around, a look of disbelief on his face, “You’re a whole literature major, we study  _ Oscar Wilde,  _ and you think  _ The Shadowhunters  _ is  _ good?”  _

“This is subjective.” Jisung sniffs, turning away.

Minho pauses.

“Anyway. I’m not here to hurt your feelings. Not today, anyway. This is a great piece. I’d give you a perfect score on it.”

Jisung smiles.

“Thanks hyung.” 

Jisung goes into performance mode. Well, performance practise mode. Not many days remain until he has to present his project, and he’s determined to make it perfect. Minho seems to have a similar mindset, and so both boys spend their last few days leading up to the presentation going through the project in the living room, giving one another pointers and taking regular breaks when Hyunjin comes out of the kitchen to swat at them with a spatula or something similar.

“You bought this stupid airfryer, so  _ use  _ it.” Hyunjin grumbles on the night before the Big Day. Jisung feels absolutely exhausted, lying on the couch upside down whilst he listens to Minho run through his presentation one last time. Jisung is pretty sure that Minho will get the best grade in the class, considering how well-articulated he is with speech in general.

“This presentation is 30% of our final grade, Jinnie.” Minho groans, falling to the floor next to where Jisung’s head is dangling. “I don’t have the time to be using airfryers.” 

“You guys are literally insane.” Hyunjin sighs as he takes a seat next to Minho on the floor. Jisung doesn’t say anything, too out of it to contribute to the conversation. Hyunjin begins to run a hand through his hair and Jisung leans into the touch.

“Have you heard from Chan at all?” Minho prods gently. Jisung shrugs,

“Yeah, he texted me a few times.”

“You didn’t respond?” Hyunjin questions. Jisung shakes his head.

“Too embarrassing.”

“What did the texts say?” Jisung shakes his head again.

“Don’t know.” He admits, “Haven’t opened them.”

“Ji…” Hyunjin begins, though Jisung sits upright quickly. He doesn’t want to hear this.

“Can we run through my last slide one more time, hyung?”

Minho looks at him sceptically. They’ve run through Jisung’s final slide at least a dozen times by now, and Minho keeps insisting it’s perfect, though Jisung somehow changes  _ something  _ every time. It’s the lasting impression he’s after.

“Once more, hyung?” Jisung begs. Minho sighs but relents. Jisung is pretty pleased with his last slide anyway, he just doesn’t want to look at Hyunjin’s pitying expression any longer.

The presentations go smoothly. When Jisung finishes he doesn’t release a huge sigh like he so much wants to, and instead stands facing the class, beaming, waiting.

There’s the tell-tale applause, and Jisung grins for real this time, satisfied, before making his way back to his seat.

“That was great, man.” Jongho whispers when Jisung is seated. He flushes a little,

“Thanks.”

“And that drawing? It was amazing!”

Jisung forces another smile, trying not to think about how much he’d wanted Chan to contribute more to the presentation. Although Chan’s main role was to create some artwork, many of the other pairs had split the work 50/50 and the teamwork was immensely impressive. Even Minho and Hyunjin had put their differences aside to split the work up between them, and the outstanding results had been clear as day in Minho’s presentation.

Jisung wishes Chan was here to share the glory with him. Jisung knows that Chan must have worked incredibly hard on his artwork, because the attention to detail and other magnificent elements were way too meticulous for it to have been a half-assed effort. 

Jisung wants Chan to be there when Jongho praises his work at the end of the class again, as well as other people from his class- people he’s never even spoken to before. He wants Chan to be there when his tutor nods at him in approval, like she’s sure Jisung has totally just aced the whole thing. He wants Chan to be there when Minho throws an arm around his shoulder and yells  _ celebratory lunch?  _ And Jisung has no choice but to agree.

As they walk out of the lecture hall, Jisung is still wishing Chan was there, feeling guilty that the person who got the most praise doesn’t even know about it-

And then suddenly. Chan  _ is  _ there. Darting behind a pillar in the hallway as soon as Jisung catches his eye.

Jisung freezes. 

“What is it?” Minho asks, voice trailing off at the sight of Chan (poorly) hiding behind a large white pillar. Jisung’s heart sinks at the prospect of Chan trying to avoid him. Sure he’d texted him a few times but goddamn he probably didn’t want to  _ see  _ him. Why did the universe decide to answer his wishes  _ now?  _

“That’s Chan, isn’t it?” Minho questions, though he’s clearly aware of the answer, “What is he doing here?”

“I don’t know, hiding? Let’s just go, hyung.”

“What the hell do you  _ mean-  _ wait, just, wait here Sung,”

Before Jisung can stop him, Minho is running over to where Chan is still trying to hide his stupid figure behind the pillar and begins to tug on his sleeve. 

Chan is dragged towards Jisung with very little resistance and Jisung is shooting Minho all sorts of warning looks, though every single one goes ignored.

“I actually have somewhere to be, so  _ Chan  _ is going to treat you to lunch.” 

“What the hell, I don’t-” Jisung begins to say but Minho is entirely not listening to him and is already bolting away. Chan is smiling slightly sheepishly when Jisung turns back to him, his ears red as he scratches at the back of his neck.

“So uh, what do you want for lunch?”

They end up in the campus cafeteria. Chan has another class soon so they can’t risk going too far, and Jisung is just glad Chan offered to pay because the cafeteria is fucking  _ expensive. _

It’s awkward to say the least. Partly because Chan had literally been trying to hide from Jisung less than twenty minutes ago, but mostly because their last interaction had involved Jisung kissing Chan and then yeeting out of the building.

It frightens Jisung a little, how things had gone downhill so fast. Because prior to, whatever this was, being with Chan had always been so easy, so  _ comfortable.  _ Jisung doesn’t ever remember a time where he had nothing to say to Chan, or something to feel self-conscious about, but sitting across from him in a cafeteria with a dry sandwich clutched between his two hands and a cooling drink to his left, Jisung is feeling pretty self-conscious.

Eventually he sighs, sets his food down.

“I just-”

“You-” Chan says just as Jisung begins to speak. Chan laughs a little as he gestures for Jisung to go first.

“I’m sorry for kissing you at the karaoke bar.” Jisung blurts out, “I’m sorry for kissing you and then running away like an idiot.”

Chan frowns.

“Why... did you?”

“Kiss you?” Jisung asks, mind whirring. Is Chan  _ dense? _

“No,” Chan responds, voice soft, “Why did you run away?”

Oh.

“Um? I was embarrassed? That was embarrassing.” 

Chan only frowns further.

“What… was embarrassing?”

“Oh my god.” Jisung groans, burying his face into his arms on the table. It’s gross, really. Jisung doesn’t think these tables are anywhere near sanitary, but he absolutely  _ refuses  _ to look Bang Chan in the eye right now. “I literally kissed you out of nowhere, hyung.” He mumbles into his arms, words muffled,  _ “That  _ is embarrassing.”

There’s silence for a few moments, and Jisung curiously raises his head. Chan is sitting there with a thoughtful look on his face, and when Jisung looks up, Chan catches his eye.

“It wasn’t… really out of nowhere.” He says eventually. 

Jisung raises an eyebrow,

“What made you hide away just now?”

“I thought you ran because I scared you away.” Chan admits quietly, “I wanted to know how the presentation went, thought I could just get a glimpse of your expression and- and leave? I don’t know. Is that creepy?”

“A little.” Jisung admits, laughing slightly, though the information makes his heart thud dangerously in his chest as he files the second half of Chan’s admission away for later. “You thought  _ you _ scared me? How could you  _ possibly  _ scare me away?”

Chan shrugs, looking down at the cup in his hands.

“I’m not really that much of a special person you know?” He begins, “I thought you realised you made a mistake and ran away and well I wanted to stay away, to give you space, but like I said I had to see how the presentation went for you- and you- well, it’s hard to look away because you’re so pretty y’know?” 

Jisung is flushing so hard he thinks his ears are probably warmer than Minho’s godforsaken airfryer. 

“Sorry that does sound really creepy, oh my god.”

Jisung isn’t quite sure what to say exactly, because Chan just called him  _ pretty,  _ but also implied that he isn’t good enough for Jisung which- what the hell. Jisung has absolutely zero standards. There’s no such thing as being  _ bad  _ for Jisung, let alone  _ good  _ for him. 

“We’re kind of stupid you know.” Jisung’s brain finally decides on.

_ “I’m  _ stupid.” Chan corrects,  _ “You  _ are pretty.”

“Oh my god,” Jisung groans, “I’m pretty stupid.”

Chan laughs then, unrestrained and carefree and everything that Jisung loves. The awkwardness dissipates just like that, as they laugh and look at one another and flush every time they accidentally brush hands or knees.

“I really like you, Sungie.” Chan says once they’ve calmed a little.

“You- why?” Jisung’s useless brain supplies. Chan looks at him slightly oddly, and Jisung momentarily contemplates hiding under the gross cafeteria table until Chan takes his hand in his. It’s warm and soft and Jisung feels comforted.

“Because you’re funny.” Chan starts, “You make me laugh, and I think you’re- you’re really passionate y’know? About everything. I want to know you, like no one else does.” He pauses, “And I also think you’re really cute.”

“Oh my god.” Jisung  _ seriously  _ thinks about climbing under the table and just sitting on the floor for a while, possibly until he stops feeling so  _ shy.  _ Being around Chan has never been a difficult thing- not really- but right now, with Chan’s hand in his, and Chan’s earnest stare on him, he’s starting to wonder if he can really handle all this.

“Was that too much?” Chan asks, his smile cheeky.

“You just want to embarrass me.” Jisung whines.

“You look cute with red in your cheeks.” 

“Yeah well  _ you _ would look cute with a black eye.” Jisung threatens.

Chan grins, unbothered.

“Are you calling me cute?”

Jisung doesn’t say anything for a moment, before he manages to look Chan in the eye again, determinedly this time.

“I want to know everything about you too.” he says, gentle. Chan smiles and something extremely fond within Jisung’s chest bursts, and he feels warm all over.

Eventually Jisung chances a look at the clock and decides to be at least a little rational,

“Don’t you have class now?” he asks and Chan sighs as he begins to gather his trash,

“Yeah,”

“When do you finish?”

“In an hour.”

Jisung takes a deep breath.

“Would you… maybe want to go on … a date? Afterwards?” 

Chan pauses. Blinks.

“Um.” He pauses again, “Wow?” Jisung stares, confused. “I mean yes! Yeah! A date sounds good!”

Jisung giggles as he helps Chan collect his shit and he giggles whilst he walks Chan to class, and once Chan is gone and he’s left alone Jisung is still. Giggling a little. 

Jisung has no idea what to do except wait outside Chan’s art class.

It’s chilly outside, but he’d come all prepared bundled up in his coat and beanie and gloves. Jisung takes a seat on the bench and reads quietly, the chill barely registering as he gets caught up in his novel.

Snow had fallen again the previous night, though it wasn’t as heavy as the first time, a thick blanket still coats most surfaces. 

Jisung doesn’t notice how cold he is until Chan’s class ends and he comes running out, spotting Jisung immediately.

“Oh my god, Ji, you’re so cold!” He exclaims, immediately tugging his scarf off.

Jisung looks up, slightly startled, not quite sure what Chan is talking about.

“Wh-” He begins to say, though Chan cuts him off by pulling him to his feet and wrapping his own scarf around Jisung’s neck. It’s thick and woollen and comes up to Jisung’s nose, but god is it  _ warm.  _

“Your nose is ridiculously red,” Chan sighs, tapping it with his fingertip, “you should have gone inside if you were cold.”

“I didn’t realise I was cold.” Jisung says, words muffled by the chunky knit scarf. 

Chan glances down at the book still grasped in Jisung’s left hand and he smiles, expression softening when he recognises it.

“You’re still reading that?”

Jisung nods eagerly.

“I’m almost finished! It’s really good.”

“That’s good.” Chan watches as Jisung shoves the book back inside his bag, and then takes Jisung’s gloved hand in his bare ones.

“Aren’t  _ you _ cold?” Jisung asks, grateful that he can blame the pink in his cheeks on the cold if interrogated. 

“I don’t get cold.” Chan responds, “Plus, I have you to keep me warm.”

Jisung is  _ really  _ grateful for the cold. 

“So where are we going?” Chan asks after a few moments of aimless walking. Jisung is still trying to recover from the tight grip Chan has on his hand, and the whole fact that he’s  _ holding hands  _ with  _ Bang Chan,  _ because  _ he’d asked him on a date.  _

“How about your café?”

Chan frowns,

_ “My _ café?”

“The café you work at.”

Chan’s expression falls, and Jisung feels instantly terrible, even though he has no idea why. They’re silent for a few minutes, Chan’s lips pressed into a thin line, and so Jisung manages to gather a tiny bit of courage and squeeze his hand gently.

This seems to bring Chan back to the present.

“How about we just grab a hot drink from one of the stands? We can take a walk in the park, in the snow, if you want to.”

Jisung beams. He’ll walk through a dumpsite with Chan.

“Sure.” He agrees easily. 

Chan buys them both a hot chocolate, despite Jisung complaining that he’d already paid for their lunch too and they end up gingerly sipping from their cups, trying to fight off the cold, huddled together for warmth.

“I don’t work at the café anymore.” Chan says eventually.

Jisung pauses, and then chooses not to say anything as he continues to sip from his cup. He doesn’t want to ask questions. Chan will tell him however much he’s comfortable with. He does, however, give a slight nod to show Chan that he’s listening, that he  _ cares. _

“Working there was really draining.” Chan continues, fiddling with the lid of his Styrofoam cup with one hand and Jisung’s fingers with the other, “They’d call me in for shifts like, totally randomly, and I was so busy with school and stuff, I’d turn them down pretty often which put me on the manager’s bad side.” He sighs, eyes looking sad and Jisung decides to squeeze his fingers gently once more. He wants to tell Chan that he doesn’t  _ have  _ to explain this to him, but something tells him that Chan isn’t just doing this for Jisung’s sake. “I used to bring my work with me sometimes- which is why you saw me sketching there a few times. Yeonjun saw my work once and somehow convinced me to hang it up around the café; our manager liked him so it wasn’t a big deal when he proposed the idea.” Chan’s voice goes quiet all of a sudden, and he takes a deep breath before continuing, “then one day the asshole- manager, not Yeonjun- walked in and he was in a super pissy mood for some reason and decided to just like- tear everything down.”

Jisung gasps,

“He did  _ what?”  _

“Yeah.” Chan chuckles humourlessly. 

“What the fuck.” Jisung mutters,  _ “Sue.” _

“I can’t-  _ Sung,  _ oh my god you’re actually mad.”

“Of course I am, hyung, what the hell! Is the guy  _ insane?  _ Is he aware how long that shit  _ takes?” _

“Hey, it’s fine, really.” Chan tips his cup back and downs the last part of his drink before throwing it in a nearby garbage can. He releases Jisung’s hand to take him by the shoulders, “Its okay, Ji, honestly. I mean, yeah it sucked and I was upset for a while, but eventually it gave me the courage to quit working for that awful man and his horrible café.” He pauses, smiles, “Besides, he couldn’t take the ones I never hung up.” 

Jisung is ready to ask a million questions, starting with  _ what the hell does that mean _ , but Chan releases his shoulders in favour of zipping open his bag and pulling out a small portfolio. 

Chan presents a plastic wallet to Jisung, who takes it, confused at first, until he recognises it-

“This is- this- it’s the piece you drew! On the day we met! Right?”

Chan beams. 

“Right.” He pulls Jisung forward once more, careful of the drawing between them that Jisung is yet to look up from, “I know you never got a chance to properly see it, but they returned our pieces to us so I thought you should see it now.”

“It’s  _ amazing.”  _ Jisung breathes, “Can I take a picture of it?”

Chan shakes his head,

“No.”

Jisung is momentarily caught off guard before he finds himself,

“Oh- right yeah, no, that’s cool, I understand-”

“You don’t need to take a picture of it.”

Jisung pauses.

“I don’t-?”

“I want you to keep it.” Chan cuts in, gently.

Jisung  _ freezes. _

“K-  _ keep it?  _ Are you  _ sure?” _

“A hundred percent.” Chan smiles brightly, and his eyes are smiling with him this time and Jisung doesn’t quite know exactly what to do because he’s never been this close to someone so beautiful, someone who means this much to him, someone who  _ likes him back- _

“Are you sure?” he repeats stupidly. 

“Yes!” Chan laughs, “I couldn’t think of a better person to have it.”

Jisung is about to thank him because he belatedly realises he hasn’t managed to do that yet, amongst the whirlwind currently swirling in his mind with thoughts such as  _ Chan gave me his drawing, Chan eyes, Chan pretty, Chan Chan Chan,  _ though all of this comes to a standstill when Chan tugs him just a little bit closer and presses their lips together. 

Jisung manages to get one arm around Chan’s neck, the drawing held protectively against his chest as Chan deepens the kiss, laughing softly when Jisung begins to smile into it.

“What?” Jisung asks, pressing their foreheads together.

“Nothing, I’m just,” Chan pauses, taking one hand off Jisung’s waist to tangle their fingers together, “just incredibly happy.”

“Yeah,” Jisung breathes into the small space between them, “Me too.” 

  
  


“Are you serious?  _ Hyunjin? Really?” _

“Hey!” Hyunjin whines, “I’m great!”

“And  _ you?” _ Jisung seethes, turning towards Hyunjin,  _ “Minho?” _

“Hey come on dude, not cool.”

“You want to put him in an airfryer!”

“Will you drop the airfryer thing?” Hyunjin says, then quieter, “that wouldn’t even be the worse pain he’s put me through.”

“Oh my god,  _ ew ew ew,  _ my  _ ears.” _ Jisung cries, hands coming over to jam against his ears, hoping he can block out any knowledge, past and present of what Hyunjin and Minho have just told him.

“Hey, uh-” Jisung’s hands are yanked away from the sides of his head by Hyunjin and he looks up to see Yeonjun looming over their table. “sorry to spoil your fun, but you’re being kinda loud.”

Jisung doesn’t think they’re being  _ that  _ loud, but considering they’re at the café Chan used to work at, he isn’t all that bothered either.  _ Drive all the customers away,  _ he thinks bitterly. He, personally, is not in favour of supporting the awful manager of the place, but Yeonjun’s been slipping them free drinks whenever he gets the chance- and honestly, Jisung is really only here for the free coffee.

“hey- wait- sit down,” Jisung says, tugging Yeonjun into a vacant chair.

“I’m working, Jisung.” Yeonjun sighs, but he settles into the chair anyway. Jisung is slowly working on not hating Yeonjun. It’s been a lot easier considering how happy he makes Soobin, and now Jisung isn’t even sure if he  _ ever  _ had a crush on Soobin or he just thought he looked really cute when he smiled. Soobin, angel that he is, hasn’t mentioned any of their previous predicament to anyone, and continues to act completely normal around Jisung, for which Jisung is incredibly grateful. He doesn’t think he can take any more life humiliation.

“This better be quick.” Yeonjun says, “If my asshole manager comes out and-”

“If I told you those two are dating,” Jisung cuts in, “would you believe me?”

Yeonjun frowns, looks over at Minho and Hyunjin, eyes slightly narrowed, then turns back to Jisung.

“Don’t they hate each other?”

_ “Thank you!  _ Now  _ stop  _ pranking me!”

“Oh my god.” Hyunjin groans, “It’s not a  _ prank.”  _

“Yeah, I really like him.” Minho says, sounding slightly offended. Hyunjin goes pink.

Yeonjun’s eyes flicker between the three of them before he stands and squeezes Jisung’s shoulder.

“I don’t think they hate each other anymore dude.”

Jisung buries his face into his arms, only one thing on his mind. Defenestration. 

  
  


“Hyunjin and Minho?” Chan laughs,  _ “Really?” _

“That’s what I said!” Jisung exclaims. They’re sitting in the backyard of Chan’s house- the same house that Jisung had attended a party at with Hyunjin, only months prior.

The house party turned out to be something that Chan’s housemates had thrown- much to Chan’s chagrin. His housemates, Changbin, Jeongin, Mingi and Yunho had insisted that passing finals was something worth throwing a huge party about, and so the chaos that was The House Party had been created. Insisting on silly things is something they seem to do often, as only minutes before, Chan and Jisung had been talking on the living room couch only for Jeongin to shoo them away for being gross.

“We’re just talking!” Chan had exclaimed but Jeongin had thrown him a glare and Chan had muttered something about moving outside- which is where they were currently, as Jisung spilled about the madness that was currently going on between his own housemates. 

“I just- I never thought they could be in a room together without starting an argument.”

“You’d be surprised to know what they get up to together in rooms now.” Jisung responds, face twisting in disgust.

Chan laughs, tugging Jisung closer by the arm he has thrown over his shoulders. Jisung inches closer, his head tucking in perfectly against Chan’s chest.

“This is probably better than them bickering all the time though, right?”

Jisung shudders.

“I still have to hear them regardless.”

Chan laughs again, careful not to jostle Jisung too much as he does so.

“Babe,” he says gently, and the pet name ignites something wonderful inside Jisung’s chest, “look up.”

Jisung does, eyes fixed on the steadily darkening sky. He gasps suddenly.

“Venus!”

Chan smiles proudly.

“That’s right.” 

“She’s ethereal.”

“She is.” Chan agrees, “we won’t be seeing her again till summer now.”

Jisung pouts, eyes darting all over the sky, trying to remember some of the other things Chan had taught him that night. Jisung had admittedly taken more interest in astronomy since then, though he rarely recognises what things are and when and where he can see them- rather there’s a sense of comfort he finds by looking at the vast sea of stars in the sky. Perhaps it’s because they remind him of Chan, or perhaps it’s because they remind him that his problems really aren’t so major, not when there’s a million different galaxies out there, with their own stars and planets and possibly other lives. 

“Shoulders.” Jisung says suddenly. 

Chan had been leaning back a little on the grass, but he sits upright quickly when Jisung speaks. 

“That guy,” Jisung continues when Chan looks at him quizzically, “The one with the belt,” he traces his finger across the sky, eyes fixed on the four bright stars, “his shoulders, and his feet.”

“Oh my god,” Chan breathes, and then he’s pulling Jisung close again, and planting a kiss on his forehead, “you really remember.”

“Of course I do.” Jisung responds, cheeks flushing, “There’s no way I could forget.” 

Chan is silent for a moment, before he takes Jisung’s finger that’s still pointing towards the sky and guides it Northwards, tracing out the shape of a vertical ‘M.’

“Cassiopeia.” He says quietly.

“Cassiopeia.” Jisung repeats. Chan’s fingers fold over his own and he brings their joint hands to his lips, kissing Jisung’s knuckles softly.

“Cassiopeia is my favourite constellation.” He says earnestly, and then softer, “The queen who angered the god of the seas.”

Jisung laughs softly, aware that one of Chan’s funny little obsessions is Greek mythology. There’s a lot of things that make Chan’s voice go soft like that- astronomy, mythology, music and arts...

“Do you believe in gods, Sungie?” Chan asks, voice still as soft. Jisung’s cheeks warm at the fact that Chan is still talking in that soft tone, the fact that he’s using that tone with  _ him. _

Something shoots across the sky, fast but bright so it’s hard to miss, and Jisung manages to catch it in the reflection of Chan’s eyes, clear and beautiful, earnest and waiting for an answer.

“Yeah,” Jisung breathes, slowly closing the gap between them, “I think I do.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> don't ask me to write the hyunho side story unless you're gonna pay me <3
> 
> kudos and comments are appreciated!
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/feiixseo) and [cc](https://curiouscat.me/felixseo)


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